


Voyeur See; Voyeur Do

by Game_Changer



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Game_Changer/pseuds/Game_Changer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff and Annie make each other uncomfortable. [Post Season 3, pre Season 4]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voyeur See; Voyeur Do

Jeff was finding it strangely enjoyable to sit in Abed’s chair. You had to hand it to the guy; he knew how to pick a good vantage point. There was no neck or eye straining of any kind involved, where watching the TV was concerned, and the whole contraption was damn comfortable. Jeff settled languidly into a puddle of genuinely drowsy relaxation of the sort he wouldn’t be caught dead in in public and took another long sip of his beer, as his eyes lazily followed the events playing out on the screen in front of him.

Hah, this would teach Britta to try and Britta his Saturday night, Jeff scoffed internally. She had wanted him to cat sit, saying she was spending her fall break on a week-long trip to Burning Man’s new sister show Flaming Woman with her new boyfriend Defiance.

“I can only hope that’s a metaphor,” he’d remarked incredulously through the phone earlier that afternoon, not quite sure himself whether he was commenting on her activity or boytoy of choice.

“It’s a metaphor for the way he lives!” Britta had exclaimed passionately, choosing for him. “Not that a shallow narcissist like you would understand what it means to stand up and fight against the injustices that infect our world!”

“I don’t think injustice is the type of infection you should be watching out for at your Burning Man rip off, Britta.”

“Haha,” Britta deadpanned. “So, I’m leaving tonight. Will you watch them or not?”

“Can’t,” Jeff replied without a moment’s delay. “I’m going to a legal conference with Alan this week. I’ll be leaving tonight too, actually.”

“Just on the day I happen to need you to cat sit. Convenient, Jeff. Real convenient. I was under the impression that you and your cobuddy hadn’t been on good terms since Shirley and Pierce’s court case.”

“Thus why I’ve got to do all I can now to get back on his good side. Do you think I want to spend most of my break pretending to learn things I already pretend to know? I’m sure there won’t be a legal loophole discussed at that conference that I don’t know how to take advantage of,” Jeff proclaimed airily. “If it would make you feel better, I can give you Alan’s phone number.  He’ll confirm this all for you.”

“I trust your sleazy coworker even less than I trust you, and that’s saying something,” Britta bit out, falling for Jeff’s bluff. Alan was looking for any excuse to give him hell at the moment; there was no way he would have covered Jeff’s ass on this one.

Letting out an appropriately distressed sigh into the phone, Jeff continued, “Whether or not you believe me, I’ll be gone at a legal conference this week. I’m sorry, but why don’t you try someone else?”

“I guess I’ll just have to do that,” Britta grumbled, her suspicion obviously far from gone.

Jeff had known it wouldn’t end there. He wouldn’t put it past Britta to skulk around his apartment to make sure he really left, so he supposed he would have to. Laying low for a night was more than worth avoiding a week’s worth of cat sitting. At 9 pm sharp, Jeff hefted an empty suitcase into the trunk of his Lexus, and sped down the road to kill time at one of the local bars.  Not a bad way to spend a Saturday night, really.

Less than an hour later, nursing a scotch with one hand, and surfing the web with another, Jeff found himself irritatingly bored. He had been going to bars less and less frequently as of late, for reasons he hadn’t cared to analyze or consider, but his current situation wasn’t leaving him as much space in his head to ignore the issue as he would have liked. He stifled a yawn. Jeff Winger was tired and bored at a bar. This was all Britta’s damn fault. Her and her stupid cats.

Just as he was dully considering finding a girl drunk and eager enough to let him spend the night at her place without too much effort required on his part, Jeff noticed a tweet Abed had sent out about an hour ago: _Going with Troy and Annie to see Skyfall three times. Hope it’ll be enough._

Considering this new tidbit of information for a moment, Jeff hummed softly to himself, considering. This was… perfect. He couldn’t have any direct contact with any members of the group this week in case Britta had passed on the news about his ‘legal conference,’ which he was almost certain that she had, but there was no reason he couldn’t hide out in their empty houses.

Based on when Abed sent the tweet, Jeff speculated that the group wouldn’t arrive back at their apartment earlier than 2 or 3 am. He could hang around their place til midnight or 1 am, or until he felt confident that Britta and her Defiance had given up by the time and headed out to not-Burning Man, and then he could sneak back home to his place with none the wiser. It was all falling into place. Lady Luck seemed to have her fingers on Jeff Winger tonight, not unlike most other nights.

And that was how Jeff found himself commandeering Abed’s chair to watch Cheers reruns in his friends’ empty house in the middle of the night. It wasn’t pathetic as long as no one saw him, okay? He just wasn’t in the mood to barhop tonight; this didn’t have to mean anything.

The clock snuck its way to 11:30 pm, with his plan continuing to go smoothly. Britta could suck it, as far as Jeff and his second bottle of beer were concerned.

However, it wasn’t too much longer until Jeff heard the sound - that unmistakable sound of key meeting lock. Alarm bells rang in his head, as he sprang up from the chair, fumbling with the remote. _It’s not even midnight yet. How could they be back so soon?! Abed would never go back on his words of a marathon!_

Possibilities darted through his mind. Maybe Britta had predicted he might hide out here. No, Ms. Edible Complex wasn’t that smart. And besides, there was only one spare key outside the apartment – that he knew of –, and he’d used that to get in earlier that night. It must be Troy, Abed, Annie, or some combination thereof. They could very well be stopping by in between showings to get a snack or some costume they forgot to bring, Jeff speedily concluded. They’ll probably be gone in under a half hour. This late night pit stop most likely had nothing to do with him, and he was determined to keep it that way.

With that thought in mind, the fugitive quickly slunk into the nearest room – _Annie’s_ , his brain softly registered – and closed the door softly behind him just in time to hear another door open on the other side of the apartment. There was only one set of footsteps, which… seemed to be heading straight for him?

Crap, crap, crap! Just his luck! His eyes quickly scanned the room for a place to hide.

 _Jeffrey!_ A miniature Dean Pelton dressed in luminescent angel’s garb poofed onto his right shoulder. The Mini-Dean kneeled down to pat – massage? – the upper region of Jeff’s chest before continuing. _Don’t you think you’re getting a little too deep into this mess? Why not just cut your losses, call it a day, and invite me out for dinner sometime? Just let Annie know you’re here!_

 _What the hell did that barkeep put in my scotch? If the Dean’s supposed to be the voice of my good side, I’m finding myself pretty convinced to make the bad decision here,_ Jeff retorted to himself.

_Well, ow-uch! That wa-_

_INTO THE CLOSET, WINGER!_ A miniature Chang dressed in a shredded, suspiciously stained devil suit screeched into his left ear.

 _Oh, no. Jeffrey, no. Nothing good ever comes from going into the closet!_ Dean Pelton wailed frantically.

           

* * *

 

Annie softly whistled a few bars of Daybreak to herself as she entered the apartment. She had had a great time watching Skyfall with Troy and Abed, even though she hadn’t been interested in sitting through the movie two more times like they were planning to.  She would be the first to admit that there were levels of fanaticism that she could never quite match when it came to those two, even with Daniel Craig being as… appealing as he was in the film. Annie had a thing for the suave, lone cowboy type.

This was turning out to be the perfect opportunity to get some alone time. As much as she enjoyed Troy and Abed – she did, really! –, Annie occasionally missed the freedom she had had in spades at her apartment in Dildopolis. But the Trobed…nie Residence was all hers for the next few hours, and taking a few of the books on her summer reading list with her for a nice, long bubble bath wasn’t sounding like such a distant impossibility at the moment.

Toning down her whistle to a light hum, Annie entered her room and rummaged cheerfully through a stack of books on her nightstand. Finding the perfect combination to go with her mood and time limit, Annie stacked her choices on her bed, and began to undo the buttons on the back of her sundress. Just as she started to slip the dress off her shoulders, Annie paused, pursing her lips slightly.  She could have sworn she’d heard a grunt or a groan or a creak. When the noise failed to resume itself after a few moments, Annie simply chalked it up to one of the neighboring tenants or a faulty pipe, and left it at that without much thought. She’d learnt to let much louder things go after her time renting a room above a sex shop.

She casually resumed sliding out of her sundress, letting it crumple to the floor around her before daintily stepping out of the circle of fabric and carrying the dress to her laundry basket. She rubbed her hands over her shoulders, shiveringly lightly – now only clothed in her light purple, low cut bra and a flimsy pair of panties. Sharing a nice, warm bubble bath with Sherlock Holmes was becoming a more and more appealing prospect by the moment. Annie flushed and giggled self-consciously at her train of thought, running her hand through her hair.

Now, where had she put her old container of bubble bath? She made a few steps towards her closet, considering. Right as she was about to pull the door open, Annie remembered the box under her bed.

“Right next to my bag of bobby pins,” she muttered proudly to herself, preening over her sharp memory.

Annie crouched on the floor, her scantily clad bottom waving back and forth in the air, as she concentrated on pulling the box out from underneath her bed frame.   

“Got it,” she crowed softly, plucking the bottle of bubble bath from the box before sliding the remaining contents back underneath her bed.

The bottle was a little dusty, so she rubbed her hand vigorously up and down the tube a few times to clean it. Annie gave a small nod of satisfaction at the cleaner bottle, and wiped the dust off her hands with a small towel near her dresser.

As she wiped her hands, she absentmindedly caught a glance of herself in the vanity mirror on the wall above her dresser. She smiled cutely at her reflection then puckered her lips. Annie wondered about her image sometimes, having been that disgusting nobody nerd girl with acne and braces for most of her teenage years. Now that she was twenty-one and miles away from Annie Adderall, had she really blossomed?

Every time Jeff gave her that soft, appraising look of his, she gained more assurance that perhaps she had. She knew it was unhealthy to entrust the shaky foundations of her physical self-confidence to the superficial whims of Jeff’s giant thumb in a turtleneck, but it was hard not to sometimes. She sighed softly and squeezed her bra-encased breasts together with her hands. If that stupid studly ex-lawyer didn’t want some of this that was his loss, and Annie was over it. She was. They were just good friends and that was better than good could hope to be!

Huffing under her breath, Annie quickly gathered her books and her bubble bath and marched out the door. Her hand was on the knob of the bathroom door before she realized that she had forgotten her towel. 

 

* * *

 

Jeff had seen a peep show before. Even though he hadn’t actually ‘officially’ gone to college back then, twenty-year-old Jeff had had his fair share of ‘spring breaks.’ What those experiences had failed to prepare him for, however, was the moment he saw someone he knew slip her clothes off though the small crack in the wall. There was no pornographic script that she was following to keep the customers coming back, although her butt and boobs were sure as hell making their own compelling cases to convince him to the contrary. It was just Annie being Annie with fewer articles of clothing on, and the intense levels of fond connection and arousal this sight cultivated in him made Jeff a furious mixture of guilty and uncomfortably hard.

By the time Annie had stepped out of her sundress, he had already wanted nothing more than to step forward, confess, and extricate himself from this situation, but that would mean having her know that he had been there – that he had stayed quiet long enough for her privacy to be inextricably invaded. The longer he stayed the worse he felt, and the more he fervently hoped she would never find out what exactly he had witnessed. She would never forgive him.

Well, she might. Actually, she probably would, because, hell, he was Jeff Winger, and he was convincing. When he was persistently convincing he pretty much always got his way, and he doubted this hypothetical could be the exception. But even if she did forgive him, he couldn’t imagine she would ever be able to look at him the same way again – truly trust him. He was sinking fast into Chang creepy territory here, and that was, well, terrifying.

 _Heh heh, welcome to the club, Winger! Once you’re in, you never go out. Because you never want to!_ The deviled Chang crowed. _The views are fabulous!_

_Shut up._

_Ohhh, I’m so scared. I bet you couldn’t even take your eyes off Little Miss Do-Good’s juicy badonkadonk long enough to position your fingers to flick me off your shoulder._

_I highly doubt that I could physically flick away anything that only exists in my deranged imagination._ Jeff silently slapped his left shoulder once just to be sure. _And I’m just keeping an eye out for any opportune moment to escape._

 _I don’t think you’ll be able to escape down her cleavage, Jeffrey._ Dean Pelton muttered wryly, with the despondence of a man long haven given up the fight.

So he was looking. If Jeff was going to be trapped in this closet, he sure as hell wasn’t going to _not_ look. Sure, he was feeling guilty about it, and he certainly hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, and he’d probably end up being extra nice to Annie the next few times her saw her, but he wasn’t Rich or anything. He was human. He was a man. This attractive… lady friend of his, was pushing her boobs together right in front of him. How could he _not_ look?

So he watched over her in a way that wasn’t all painful, but wasn’t wholly satisfying either. When she finally left the room to take what he assumed was a bath, Jeff let out a long shuddering sigh he hadn’t known that he had been holding in, and suddenly felt extremely old and far too young all at the same time. Swiftly, he opened the door to the closet, eager to make a quick escape, right as Annie walked back into her room.

A long, heavy silence descended, lasting until Annie softly spoke, “Jeff?”

“Annie, I-”

As Jeff began to speak, a pale, stiff realization spread across Annie’s face and she quickly covered her chest with her books. “Close your eyes!”

He did as she said, standing there silent, eyes shut and head dipped slightly like a man awaiting his own execution. His mind sped through scenarios and possibilities, endeavoring to find just the right way to fix this. However, nothing would change the fact that she’d seen him, and she was damn well smart enough to guess what he’d seen.

“You can open them now.”

He did. Annie was back in the summer dress she had had on when she arrived, her books placed neatly on her bed.  She wasn’t more than a foot away from him, staring intently into his eyes. She wasn’t screaming at and/or slapping him, which he took to be a good sign, but she sure as hell wasn’t smiling either. Jeff couldn’t quite get a read on her, which left him utterly lost on what to say.

“Well?” Annie demanded an explanation.

He supposed she deserved one: “I… was hiding from Britta.”

“In my closet?” Annie asked, a shrill edge entering her tone, apparently having noticed the open door beside him.

“No. In your apartment,” Jeff sighed softly before launching into the meat of his explanation. “Britta wanted me to cat sit, so I’m pretending to be out of town for the week to get out of it. I noticed Abed’s tweet about your Skyfall marathon tonight, and decided to hide out and watch some TV at your place for a little while, and then sneak out before you all got back. The plan was working pretty well until you got here,” he accused with dark humor, but a clear lack of malice.

“So you hid when you heard me come in, because you thought I’d tell Britta. Makes sense.” Annie agreed simply, before speaking again, her wavering tone accusing, “Keeping your stupid, selfish lie intact was more important to you than… me?”

“That’s not fair,” Jeff protested, stare inevitably gravitating towards her wide, sparkling Disney eyes.

“Fair? _Fair?_ Fair flew out the window with your dignity, buddy,” Annie shot back, finding her anger and target. “I knew you were a selfish ass, but I thought I could count on you to be there when it really mattered. And one of the requirements included in the concept ‘be there’ is not peeping at me while I undress without my permission!”

Knowing he had to diffuse this bomb before the fuse got too low, Jeff speedily threw a curveball. “Annie. Why do you think people enjoy surprise parties?”

Looking slightly less like she just wanted to strangle him and looking more than a bit confused, and Annie frowned out a, “What?”

“The surprise of the whole event is based on a group of people hiding nearby and spying on a recipient that has no idea that they are there,” Jeff continued, waving his arms about the room in grandiose motions. “These people hiding in our closets and under our beds and behind our curtains that in other situations would likely be considered nut jobs or stalkers, are instead the people we ask to join us in celebration and eat our cake. Why? Two reasons. What sort of bathing suit would you normally wear, Annie?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant!”

“If you were going out swimming, would you wear a bikini?”

 Catching on, Annie scoffed, “Yeah, but wearing a bikini is different than being in my underwear, Jeff!”

“Is the amount of skin they cover really all that different?” Jeff pointed out. “By going to the beach in a bikini, you are giving society explicit consent to view all that you show. And yes, perhaps you weren’t intending to go out in public looking as you did, but you did not surpass your own limitations on what you were fine with being viewed by others.

“Similarly, in surprise parties the hiders and suprisers do not view more of the recipient than the person would be willing to show during, say, a day to the beach. The surprise party recipient has no reason to feel embarrassed by her appearance and actions and therefore feels no shame from or anger towards those that viewed her without her prior consent. Tonight you neither did nor showed anything to me that you would not have done in public, thus there is as much reason to feel ashamed about this whole little incident as there would be if I were throwing you a surprise party.”

Swallowing, Annie nodded hesitantly.

“The second difference is intention,” Jeff barreled on, comforted by her the apparent lack of hostility in her gaze. “The people participating in the surprise party are in the room to make that person happy, not for more selfish reasons such as self-gratification or perversion. Admittedly, I did not hide in your closet to make you happy, but I did not do it out of any ill will either.

“The important point is this: I did not go into that closet to get a look at you,” Jeff emphasized. “I simply wanted to hide. In this situation I would consider my intentions towards you to be neutral; the possibility of you coming in and undressing did not even enter into my consideration. There was no evil plot here. I did not do this to hurt you. I do not do this for you or because of you at all.”

Annie’s expression had suddenly grown dark again. She clenched her fists, seeming to sink into herself, as she shook her head and stepped away. Jeff stared in confusion.  Slowly, she looked back at him with an empty smile.

“What? You thought you were just got patch everything up with another Winger Speech of yours? Well, think again. I want you to leave,” she said stiffly.

“Ann-”

“NOW!”

The harsh, closed look in her eyes left no room for argument. Jeff silently removed himself from her apartment and got out his phone to call a cab. He must have drank a little too much tonight, as he was having trouble holding his fingers steady long enough to push the right buttons.

 

* * *

 

_Three days later…_

The knocking started at 8:00 am sharp. Jeff ignored it. When it occurred promptly ten minutes later he ignored it again. He put a pillow over his head at 8:30, muttered explicatives into his sheets at 8:40, and stared angrily at his ceiling at 8:50. Finally, at 9 am a thoroughly harassed Jeff shuffled sleepily to the door and ran an irritated hand through his bedhead as he squinted out the peephole.

Resting his head against the door for a moment, Jeff gathered his strength, before turning and pulling the knob.

“Hello, Abed.”

“I know we’re all supposed to be under the impression that you’re gone for the week in order for you to get out of cat sitting for Britta, and normally I would play along, because I know how important it is for your character to feel competent and believable, while acting irresponsible and untrustworthy, but this is important,” Abed explained firmly. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Abed simply stared at him, eyes unblinking. “Well, I wanted to sit in my apartment this morning with Troy and Annie and watch Fight Club on HBO, but you can’t always get what you want.” 

“I’m not stopping you,” Jeff retorted, making a slight shooing motion with his hand. “You go watch your movie, I get my beauty sleep, and everybody wins.”

“I don’t know why you suggest impossible things like they can happen, Jeff. I don’t understand you sometimes,” Abed shook his head, and squeezed past Jeff into the apartment.

He trotted towards Jeff’s couch, plopped down, and shrugged off his shoulder bag.

“Call me a dreamer,” Jeff proclaimed dryly, reluctantly closing the door.

He walked slowly over to Abed and sunk down into the seat beside him. They sat in silence for a few long moments.

“Annie threw away Troy’s Lucky Charms cereal this morning. When pressed for a reason, she said that the pot of gold marshmallow reminded her of ‘Jeff’s stupid face.’”

Jeff looked away with a serious, contemplative expression, as he attempted to remember what the pot of gold marshmallow looked like.

“It’s a good looking marshmallow,” Abed conceded, to Jeff’s immediate relief. “But that’s beside the point. Troy is distraught and frightened.”

“He’ll get over it,” Jeff assured.

“No he won’t. Not until Annie calms down. She is now extremely volatile and overemotional, which deeply affects him. Troy is very easily swayed by the emotional storms of the people around him.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“Most likely true, but what about the meantime, Jeff? I don’t do well with emotions, you know that, and you stuck me in an apartment with two emotional wrecks, albeit inadvertently. I don’t know what you did, but I want you to fix this,” Abed demanded.

Jeff gave Abed a long look before sighing, “Alright.”

He picked up the remote, turned on the TV, and flipped to HBO. Abed frowned and opened his mouth as if to speak then closed it again and titled his head in thought. After a few moments he settled back into his chair, eyes already glued to the screen as he nodded slightly.

“Do you have any popcorn?”

“The cabinet to the right of the fridge. “

“Cool. Cool cool cool.”

 

* * *

 

Less than two hours later someone began pounding furiously on the door. Jeff jumped slightly, and he channeled the embarrassment from his reaction into annoyance at whoever was knocking. He frowned indignantly at his door. Abed, seemingly unaffected, plucked a few more pieces of popcorn from the bag and continued to munch quietly.

“ABED WHAT’S TAKING SO LONG?!” A muffled voice screamed. “DID JEFF KILL YOU?!”

“It’s Troy,” Abed explained between munches. “Could you get that?”

“It would be my distinct honor and pleasure,” Jeff replied through gritted teeth.

“Awesome,” was Abed’s distracted reply.

Jeff swung open the door with a flourish, his smile bright and sarcastic.

“Hi, Troy.”

“Hey, Jeff, is Abed here?” Troy asked worriedly.

“I’m here,” Abed called from over his shoulder. “We’re just watching the end of Fight Club.”

“Cool! Can I join?” Troy inquired cheerfully, all fear and uncertainty immediately dissipating.

“Sure,” Abed answered before Jeff could even open his mouth.

“Awesome!”

Troy squeezed by Jeff and hopped onto the couch next to Abed. Abed nodded once in recognition, and the two of them did their special handshake before settling back into the couch cushions.

“Come on, you’re missing the climatic final scene,” Abed called over to the lone man who remained by the door, leaning heavily against the frame.

“Strange, because I have a feeling this won’t be ending anytime soon.”

“You get what you ask for, Jeff,” Abed replied simply.

 

* * *

 

Troy’s phone rang in the middle of Alien. Just as he was about to take the call, Abed put a finger to his lips and shushed him.

“Silence your cell phones during the movie.”

“But… it’s Annie.”

Abed gave Troy a look and Troy reluctantly nodded, letting his phone go to voicemail before turning it off entirely.

Jeff pretended he hadn’t heard or observed any part of the exchange.

 

* * *

 

A knock on the door startled Jeff awake for the second time in two days.

“Five more minutes,” Troy mumbled.

Jeff peered slowly off to his side to discover Troy balled up on one couch cushion and Abed sprawled out over another, still seemingly deeply asleep.

“Did we spend the whole night here?” Jeff asked groggily.

“I don’t sleep walk,” Troy replied, voice distant. “Only Asian people and babies do that.”

The knock came again, somewhat soft, yet strong and insistent.

“Somebody answer it, make ‘em go away, and lemme sleep some more!” Troy pleaded with closed eyes.

The TV was still playing softly in the background; apparently they had all fallen asleep in front of it. Jeff glanced dully at his watch. 11 am. Geez, how late had they stayed up?

At the third knock, Jeff staggered to his feet and walked over to the peephole. This made the second time this week he had looked at Annie through one of those. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself, the girl looked cold. He opened the door stiffly.

“Annie,” he greeted as casually as he could manage, which was pretty casual. “What can I do you for?”

“I’m looking for my housemates. Last I heard from Abed, he said he was visiting you. Same with Troy. After they left, I couldn’t get a hold of either of them,” Annie spoke accusatorily then paused as she gave him a quick once over. “Did you just get out of bed?”

“Your housemates and I had a late night,” he explained, pointing a thumb to the two guys conked out on his couch. “We watched more movies than I can remember.”

“Fun!” Annie exclaimed, tight-lipped.  

“Abed had his no cell phones during the movie rule in place. I’m sure they didn’t mean to worry you,” Jeff offered weakly.

“You could have gone outside and called.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me right now.”

“Well, you thought wrong! The wellbeing of my friends is more important to me than-” she waved her hand sharply between them, “-whatever this is!”

“Duly noted,” Jeff replied dryly. He didn’t want to have this conversation, and he especially didn’t want to have it half-awake in day old clothes and bed head.

“Oh my god, please go talk somewhere else, because I am tired, and you two snapping at each other is not the type of lullaby I can fall asleep to!” Troy’s agonized voice drifted over to the pair.

After an awkward pause, Jeff gestured reluctantly to the hallway. “Shall we?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Annie snapped, turning her head away from him with a huff.

“Well, you can just listen then.” Jeff marched out of his apartment, a feat of will in itself with him looking as… unkempt as he did, and dragged Annie along behind him.

He took her up a couple flights of stairs to the roof. No one would see them argue it out here, and, most importantly, no one else would be able to see him with genuine bedhead. Finally letting go of her wrist, Jeff watched as Annie quickly snatched her hand back, once again crossed her arms, and looked around evasively.

“I was in the wrong. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, Annie,” Jeff bit out, sounding restrained. “What do I have to do to make this better?”

“Just leave me alone!” she replied sharply.

“I was trying to! Who is at whose apartment building right now?!”

“Troy and Abed-”

“-were scared of you, so they came over to make me fix it. They won’t leave until I fix this, and I end up eating way too many carbs when they’re movie marathoning in my apartment, which means I need to fix this now. We need to fix this now!”

“That’s your problem.”

“No, it’s our problem,” Jeff pursued firmly. “Unless you’d rather pay the rent on that big, empty apartment all by yourself, because if we don’t fix this your roommates will become my roommates.”

“That’s…!” Annie tried, looking flustered. “I-I’m fine now. They won’t have to be worried about me now. I’m not freaking out. I’m totally cool. Chill. Yeah.”

“No you’re not. You haven’t looked me in the eyes once today, and I don’t know what to do. What if I promise never to go into your room again? Or if I get you some concert tickets to the Bare Naked Ladies,” Jeff offered desperately before pausing to contemplate what he had just said. Wow, maybe that band’s name wasn’t the best thing to bring up right now.

Annie didn’t seem to notice, so Jeff resumed, “If you really just need some time, that’s fine, but I don’t want you to make this an issue for the group. I don’t want to start dividing our friends between the two of us, because I’m sure that most, if not all, of them would end up choosing you, and I’d end up just hanging with Leonard for my last year. Surely you don’t hate me enough to inflict that sort of punishment on me for all this.”

“While I would never say no to a BNL concert, it was never my intention to make this a big issue, or bring the group into this. I don’t hate you, Jeff,” Annie admitted hesitantly, seeming reluctant to continue the conversation when she couldn’t funnel her words through her anger. “I’m not… even really that mad about you peeping on me from the closet anymore. After I got over my initial freak out, I realized that you were right. While it’s still kind of creepy, it wasn’t like I had been naked or writing in my diary or anything. But… what you said really hurt.”

“What? What did I say?”

They stared silently at one another, one gaze curious and demanding, and the other uncomfortable and shamed. Jeff waited, letting the afternoon breeze brush his hair into natural, unattractive patterns.

“That…. That it meant nothing to you. Maybe it’s stupid, and I know that you still think of me as a child, but… to know that you could care less if you saw me just in my…. undergarments made me feel… pathetic,” Annie finally admitted, her voice getting softer with each word; she looked small, as if she wanted to blend flawlessly into the wall or in other ways conceal herself. “There, I said it. I’ll get over it. Can we go now?”

Jeff averted his eyes as Annie turned to leave. He didn’t – he couldn’t deal with this. Why was she making him deal with this? She’s too young! Too innocent! Too-

“It wasn’t nothing,” he mumbled, half hoping she wouldn’t hear.

Half way back to the door, Annie stopped walking. She slowly turned around, cheeks subtly pink in a way that probably wasn’t makeup, as she stared at him.

Jeff forced his eyes to find hers, as he heaved a large sigh. “I didn’t admit it, because I didn’t think it would help my case of not being gross and creepy to you, but if it’s what you need to hear, I… thoroughly enjoyed it,” he bit out quickly. “I enjoyed you in a lot of ways I’m sure were entirely inappropriate.”

Annie lowered her gaze, her whole face now a deep scarlet as she squirmed prettily. “Well, thank you,” she replied shortly in a tone far too prim to be suitable for the discussion at hand.

Feeling gross, creepy, and, worst of all, old, Jeff shuffled awkwardly towards Annie, gave her a soft, hesitant pat on the head, and quickly made his way for the door with a strained, “Well, kiddo, I guess we’re done here! I’ll send Troy and Abed back your way when they wake up.”

Not waiting for a response, Jeff exited the roof without looking back. His ‘Abandon Ship!’ senses were tingling something fierce.        

 

* * *

 

_Six days later..._

The group met for a casual poolside get-together at Pierce’s house one of the last few afternoons before their fall break ended and the semester resumed. Britta brought tales of Flaming Woman and her doomed fling with Defiance to force upon whoever would listen. Apparently Defiance had broken up with her when it became obvious that Britta had not gotten tear gassed in a foreign country for longer than was rebelliously appropriate and occasionally turned in homework assignments. Most of the beers were gravitating towards her lawn chair, as she badmouthed the Tribe of Man with a consoling Annie and mothering Shirley, who seemed torn between comforting Britta and scolding her for going to such a ‘free-spirited’ event with such a hippy in the first place.

Troy had attempted to convince Britta to come and swim with him and Abed. While he claimed getting wet in a sexy swimsuit might be a good change of pace for her, she seemed more interested in being sad. Jeff had pulled Troy aside in between games of Marco Polo Blorgon with Abed to explain to him that yes, even when they could be getting wet and sexy, sometimes women enjoyed just being sad and talking about being sad and you had to leave them be and let them do it if you didn’t want them getting pissed off at you instead. Troy had nodded sagely at this before cannon balling back into the pool.

His duty as resident dad done, Jeff was left with Pierce.

“Look at it all,” the old man gesticulated grandly about the poolside area. “Isn’t this grand?”

“I can’t deny the fact that you do have an admirable square footage.”

“No, no,” Pierce chuckled patiently. “This. This glorious celebration of friendship that I created.”          

“It’s just a pool party, Pierce.”

“You shouldn’t be such a downer, Jeff,” Pierce commented, clucking his tongue lightly. “But I understand. All these guys out here in swimsuits. Must be hard for you, huh?” He snorted. “Hard for you. Get it?”

“Oh, it’s unbearable all right,” Jeff intoned dryly. “Where’s your bathroom?”

After lackadaisically rattling off the directions, Pierce grasped Jeff’s shoulder with a look of fierce, supportive camaraderie in his eyes as he spoke, “Just try not to get semen on my carpeting.”

 

* * *

 

Jeff refrained from spilling semen onto Pierce’s carpet, as he preened in front of the bathroom mirror. Considering his options, he assumed he was likely to have a better time here with his own reflection than out there. His image was rather captivating. Jeff smirked attractively at himself.

This continued for an undocumented number of minutes before there was a knock at the door.

A voice he could not recognize flowed softly through the wall, “I beg your pardon for my rude interruption, but might you be Mister Winger?”

Opening the door to face what he assumed was one of Pierce’s maids, he quirked an appropriately handsome eyebrow. “I may.”

“Your presence is requested in The Violet Lounge,” the young girl intoned, bowing her head slightly. 

“Where and why is that?”

“Please follow me,” she requested calmly, her long, blonde hair fluttering against her shoulder blades as she turned to walk down the corridor.

Pierce was a crafty bastard. Jeff didn’t want to take part in anything the guy was plotting at this point, but Pierce knew that he had a hard time saying no to young, pretty things. On top of that, Jeff couldn’t shake the thought that he’d seen this girl somewhere before, and it certainly hadn’t been at Pierce’s house. Jeff had never met any of the man’s staff. This made him curious.

“So,” Jeff spoke up, as they climbed stairs and sped past door after door, “you live around here?”

“My family has served the Hawthorne family for five generations. I live in the town nearby.”

“Impressive. You must really like those wipes.”

“They are very cleanly,” the girl agreed readily enough.

The pair fell into silence, save for the constant taps of shoes against luxurious carpeting.  Finally, the maid stopped by an unexceptional door and bowed.

“This is The Violet Lounge. It has been requested that you wait inside.”

Staring intently at the girl, Jeff finally asked, “I’ll do that, but could you do me a small favor in return?”

 

* * *

 

Jeff stepped into the room and lazily surveyed his surroundings. The place really lived up to its name. The drapes, the walls, the ceiling, everything except the wooden floor was pretty damn purple. And the whole place was lilac scented. And Pierce called _him_ gay.

The room seemed pretty ordinary – as purple, scented rooms went –, bedecked in the furnishings of a typical study, except for one, little aspect. One wall of the room was semi-transparent. The wall appeared to be made of a giant, illuminated shoji screen, with the silhouettes of objects from the other side of the screen clearly visible. It took him a second to notice that one of those silhouettes seemed to be a moving person.

The silhouette twirled once, a dress fluttering along with the motion, as it pressed into the curves of the woman on the other side of the screen. Oh yeah, that was definitely a woman. Her outline tiptoed and danced about. For a moment, Jeff wondered if the image was being projected somehow, but as the wood creaked under her feet, he could feel subtle vibrations under his. If this was virtual, it was elaborately so.

Suddenly the woman began to fiddle with the front of her dress. By the motions of her arms, Jeff assumed she was either giving herself a breast exam or unbuttoning her dress. As her clothing slid off her shoulders, he was able to affirm his latter hypothesis, and also be privy to an exquisite show of curves. Curves that he… knew.

“Annie?” he spoke up, his voice catching on the dryness in his throat. What the hell was happening?

The movement stopped on the other side of the screen. The shadow peered back and forth.

“Hmm,” Annie’s voice floated towards him, as the silhouette crossed its arms beneath its chest, pushing up a pair of very-much breasts. “It’s almost as if I heard someone calling my name. But no one is around right now. I’m here getting changed into my swimsuit all by myself~” she twittered in very dangerous way.

Oh god. Was she? She _was_. But _why_? Jeff had far more questions than answers, and this whole situation was getting quickly out of hand. And why was she fiddling with her bra?!

“I don’t know what you are trying to accomplish here, but stop it,” Jeff ordered thinly. “Now’s not the time.”

“Oh my,” Annie murmured, as she hung her bra on a chair nearby. “The wind sure is noisy today. I hope I won’t be too chilled in this little bitty swimsuit.”

“For the love of god, Annie, just put your-”

“No!” Annie’s shadowed figure suddenly marched toward the divide. “You can either leave or shut up and watch. What you can’t do is tell me what to do. And stop ruining my bit!”

While Jeff was barely able to stop himself from choking out ‘Your bit?’, he just managed. His mouth quirked, but continued to stay shut as the silhouette fiddled with its panties. If she wanted him there that badly, who was he to argue with a half-naked woman?

 

* * *

 

The sun was beginning to set on the Hawthorne Mansion.  Britta had drunk herself into a lazy, mumbling slumber. As she snored, Shirley abandoned her post by the girl’s side to reluctantly talk shop of the sandwich variety with Pierce. The mood of the party had calmed, and Abed dragged his sleepy, exhausted friend from the pool. He laid Troy down on the lawn chair next to Britta’s, and draped a pair of towels over both of his snoring friends. Standing up once again, he surveyed the area. Jeff and Annie were still nowhere to be seen. He could only hope this wouldn’t end with Annie bringing her emotions back into their apartment again. By the way she had been acting for the past few days, this seemed less likely than other scenarios, Abed was relieved to conjecture.

Today had been a good day that Abed had spent with friends, and he was relatively content. Days like these were inevitably limited, he knew, especially as their fourth year at Greendale was speeding along. The world and its inhabitants couldn’t stay young forever.

Shaking his head lightly to clear his thoughts, Abed strode over to the poolside and gazed contemplatively at his own reflection. As he did so, the image of a young, strikingly blonde woman moved toward his reflection’s side. Her eyes were as deep blue and divinely unemotional as he remembered.

“Are you Abed?” The reflection asked. “I was told to meet you.”

Turning away from the pool, Abed brought his eyes to the girl’s, regarding her silently for a magical moment.

“Hilda,” he breathed.

“You knew my grandmother?”

“Yes,” Abed replied, because he did. 


End file.
